


The Phantom Queen

by StellaStarMagic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood and Violence, Celtic Mythology & Folklore, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Graphic Description of Corpses, Mythology - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25550833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaStarMagic/pseuds/StellaStarMagic
Summary: Rose Potter craved power. When offered to take the place of an ancient Irish Goddess, she figured she'd found the fastest way, but it turned out she still had a long way to go to claim her place. Answering prayers, having devoted followers at her back and dealing with other Irish deities and their own followers, even among Hogwarts students, was only the beginning.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks
Comments: 20
Kudos: 76





	1. The Morrigan

Rose hoped her sobs could not be heard through the cupboard. Again, her uncle had hit her. Again her aunt had thrown poisonous words at her and her parents. Again her cousin had grinned throughout her ordeal, relishing in it. She could never defend herself. What would she even be able to do if she tried? She knew, at only ten years old, she stood no chance against her uncle. Sometimes, she wanted to hurt them back.

And sometimes, she just wanted to fall asleep and never wake up.

Like now.

Her wrist and face hurt.

Lost in her thoughts, she had accidentally burnt Vernon's breakfast. He, of course, had gotten angry because of it and grabbed her by her wrist to backhand her. Not once. It never was once with her uncle when he got _really_ angry with her.

She wished she could hurt him back. Just one time.

Rose wondered for how long she would be kept locked away this time. She hoped it wouldn't be too long. Being stuck in here was horrible. It started to smell, she got really hungry _and_ had to really use the loo.

A yawn escaped her. She felt tired. She reached up to turn off the cupboard's light and turned to face away from the door. Closing her eyes, she wondered if she'd be lucky this time and not wake up. Her dreams were nice sometimes.

She'd like to just dream forever.

* * *

Her eyes snapped open. She was wide awake and knew that something felt different. Her face didn't hurt and neither did her wrist.

That wasn't it, though. Those things had happened before.

No, what was different was the dream she had had. Steel clashing, her vision tainted in crimson, the dull thud of bodies dropping – it scared her. Never before had she had a dream quite like this.

And now she was awake. She wanted to go back to sleep, to forget about the real world, about her aunt and uncle and cousin. But now, she was worried that she'd dream that dream again. Rolling onto her back, she stared at the cupboard's ceiling, which was nothing but darkness. She didn't know if it was already morning or if it was still night. Her eyes were still heavy, so she felt it safe to assume that it wasn't morning yet.

Before she knew it, sleep took over once more.

* * *

Three days had passed and Rose had been allowed out of the cupboard again. She was glad too because she was thirsty, hungry and really needed to use the loo.

And, after she was _'presentable'_ again, everything returned to the way it used to be before she had burnt that breakfast. She couldn't decide whether that was a good or bad thing. Slaving for the Dursleys did have the advantage of helping her focus on her tasks instead of other things and days tended to feel shorter that way. She certainly didn't mind _that_ one bit.

 _'Normal'_ didn't last for long, however.

One evening, while washing the dishes, a sharp caw startled her. She turned to look towards the kitchen's window and was surprised to see a raven or crow – she was never sure with those – sitting there on the window sill and looking at her. It _really_ felt like it was staring _straight at her_. Then, a moment later, a second one joined. Then a third.

Rose blinked several times to make sure she wasn't just seeing things. Sure, it was nothing too weird to see a raven or crow on a window sill, but three? And all three of them were sitting still, looking straight at her. She was sure that _that_ wasn't normal. Curious, the dishes forgotten, she walked closer to the window. The birds didn't move their gazes from her, not even for a moment, and, once she got closer to the window, her jaw nearly dropped all the way to the floor. Outside, on the Dursleys' lawn, on their tree and on their car were countless of these black birds and all of them appeared to be looking at her. And then, as if on cue, she could see them all open their beaks for a single, deafening caw and –

Rose gasped, her heart racing a mile a minute. She looked around and realized that her hands were soapy and that she was holding a plate, standing in front of the kitchen sink, washing the dishes. She turned towards the window and there was nothing.

She furrowed her brows. Had she just imagined it? Had she just imagined all those ravens or crows outside? Was she losing it?

"What are you doing, girl?!" her aunt suddenly asked, nearly making her jump in surprise. "Why haven't you finished yet?!"

"I-I – there were…" She trailed off. What would it even matter? No matter what she said, she wouldn't be believed. No, before she'd be believed she'd be beaten again. She knew these people, these degenerates. _Leeches. Maggots._

Rose stopped.

"What's the matter with you, girl?" Petunia asked, however, it was clear from the suspicion in her voice that the question wasn't asked out of worry.

Rose looked at the plate in her hand and, for the briefest of moments, wondered how satisfying it would be to break her aunt's precious porcelain right over her head.

"Nothing, Aunt Petunia. I'm almost finished."

After all, it wouldn't do to tell her aunt that she was feeling like she was going crazy.

* * *

That night, Rose awoke again with a gasp. She took a shaky breath and sat up. She looked around – not that she could see anything in this tiny, dark, dingy, _bloody_ cupboard – and tried to relax. The haunting whispers of a woman still rang loud and clear in her head.

 _'Come'_ she had said. _'Come and join me'_.

A part of her – a part which obviously was completely nutters – wanted to follow it. But where would she even go, even if she suddenly began to listen to ominous voices from her dreams? How could she even leave the cupboard, considering her aunt never forgot to lock her up before going to sleep, just in case she decided to raid the Dursleys' precious fridge in the middle of the night? How would poor Vernon and Dudley survive if she – the unwanted orphan, the _freak_ , the _runt_ – would eat all of their food away?

She shook her head. Again, her thoughts drifted off in such a weird way. She probably really was losing her mind. Who could blame her though? While those two fat sacks of meat upstairs stuffed their faces multiple times a day she was barely allowed to eat enough to stop the worst pangs of hunger. It made her angry.

_"Come child. Leave and come – join me."_

"I'm really losing the plot," Rose whispered wide-eyed. Did she really just hear that voice from her dream while awake? _What was going on?!_

_"Come."_

She leaned against the back of the cupboard, pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Maybe it would go away if she just ignored it?

She waited, still wide-eyed and shivering, listening into the darkness.

_"Ignoring my signs was foolish already, child, but ignoring my call is a death wish. Your fate is in my hands. COME."_

The moment the voice spoke its last word, the door to her cupboard was ripped from its hinges, the wood crunching as it broke. She then heard the muffled voices from her uncle and aunt and the heavy, angry stomping sounds of her uncle's footsteps followed by the rattling of a door. He then was shouting angrily and, from the sound of it, hitting the door. If she had to take a guess she would say that he was locked in his own bedroom.

"Who are you?" Rose asked and immediately felt silly because there was no one around aside from her angry relatives upstairs.

" _Someone you should listen to if you want to be free and powerful."_

She did want to be free, most definitely. And powerful? Yeah, that'd be a nice extra, no doubt. To be free and strong enough to defend herself from people like Vernon? How could she say no? But what if all this was just a fabrication of her mind? What if she was just finally going crazy? Maybe one of Vernon's hits against her face had finally damaged something up there. It would make sense, wouldn't it?

" _Follow my crows, child. Follow them and see for yourself. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain."_

The voice had a point, to be fair. No matter what would happen to her once she would… _'follow the crows',_ it certainly would be better than another day of slaving away for...for _this_ family.

 _"Indeed_. _You, Rose Potter, are so much more than they let you believe. Now come. My patience is not eternal."_

Swallowing thickly, Rose crawled out from the cupboard and got up on shaky legs, looking left and right down the entrance hall. The front door opened by itself, inviting her to her freedom. She honestly wasn't sure what to do. Should she go through the door – which opened by itself – and risk it? Or should she let her life rot away under the Dursleys' cruelty? She stared, biting her bottom lip. She then pinched her arm as hard as she could, making her eyes squeeze shut and herself whimper in pain. She stopped and looked around and was both relieved and scared that nothing had changed – she was still in the Dursley's entrance hall, the door to her cupboard was still ripped from its hinges and on the ground, the front door still opened. Her legs still shaky, she walked towards her freedom. With every step, she imagined Vernon's screaming and shouting to be drowned by a broken down door because he finally managed to get out. She imagined him right behind her, grabbing her by the cuff of her shirt and dragging her back inside. It made her walk faster.

The moment she stepped outside, it felt like she was able to really, genuinely _breathe_ for the first time. Gone was the feeling of her suffocating under the Dursleys' thumb. Taking a deep breath, she couldn't help but smile. This was it. Rose Potter was going to be free.

Rose Potter was going to be her own person and no one's chattel.

Her nervousness all but forgotten and not caring about her oversized pyjamas and bare feet, she kept walking out to the front lawn and there, in the darkness, she could just about make out a crow. Upon seeing her, it turned its head towards the general direction of the playground before flying away with a gentle caw. With a shrug and nothing else to go on, Rose started walking there, wondering what she was getting herself into. There was little to no chance for her to go back to her relatives. Her uncle and aunt had made it clear – more often than necessary – that she hadn't been wanted by them. The feeling, thanks to their efforts, was more than mutual. Privet Drive had never been her home and never would be. It had been a prison she wanted to forget. So, this opportunity, if she wanted to call it that, was all she had.

All she could do was hope that the voice's promises would be kept and that she would really become free and powerful.

* * *

The walk to the playground was over quickly and she had not encountered any more crows on her way. Rose wasn't sure if that meant that she was on the right track or completely off the mark. Nevertheless, here she was – in the middle of the night in the deserted playground.

On one of the benches, barely visible, she saw another crow. This one pointed its beak towards the forest just behind the playground, causing her to swallow. A ten-year-old girl walking into the forest this late at night? It was like she was asking for trouble. But what did she have to lose? There was no way the Dursleys would ever take her back – not that she wanted them to. If she were to die in there, in the forest, she just hoped it'd be over quickly. There wasn't much for her to hold onto anyway.

Steeling her nerves, she started to walk towards the forest. She had a feeling her feet would look terrible soon and couldn't help but chuckle after imagining walking with dirty feet around Petunia's house. Just the faces she'd make would've been worth it.

A few steps into the forest, however, and her random thoughts made way for silent exclamations of pain because of all the twigs and other things hurting the bare soles of her feet. The crunch of dried leaves and the snapping of twigs were the only sounds she was hearing – aside from her hammering heart. With every step, it got darker and, sooner than she would have liked, the little bit of illumination provided by the moon was gone as well. The forest was a lot thicker than she would have expected. A forest like this certainly didn't seem like something they'd like having around in Little Whinging.

_"Because we are in Ireland, child."_

Rose's eyes widened in shock and she tripped, falling face-first into the dirt. "Ow, ow, ow…" She looked around, rubbing her sore nose with a hand. Quickly realizing that looking around in utter darkness didn't do her any good, she just spoke into the forest. "What do you mean? How can we be in Ireland? _Who are you_?"

_"Just a bit further. You are almost there."_

Not having any other choice, Rose kept on walking, her brows furrowed and her arms wrapped around herself.

_"Do not adopt such a pitiful posture in my presence."_

Again, Rose's head whipped around, trying to pinpoint where that voice was coming from, but it just sounded like it was coming from everywhere.

_"Stand up straight."_

Rose did so without realizing it.

_"Now you may step before me."_

A sudden light appeared right in front of her, blinding her in the darkness of the night. Covering her eyes with an arm, she could hear steps approaching and then, suddenly, there was a pair of hands on her arm, pulling them from her face.

" _Finally we meet, Rose Potter."_

"W-who're you?" she asked, her eyes tightly shut, though it didn't help much; the light was blinding her still.

" _Oh, I am so many. Some say I am but the title of Badb, Macha and Nemain – or Anand. Some think I am one of the sisters Ériu, Banba and Fódla. And again, some think that all these names are sisters to each other."_ The voice chuckled and Rose could feel a hand stroke her cheek. It was oddly warm and cold at the same time. _"One name has been constant, however. Or is it a title? Maybe it is both. Whichever it is, you may call me Morrigan – and I am all of them."_

Rose felt even more confused than before. "I don't understand…" She wished she could look at the woman but was afraid she'd actually go blind because of the light.

" _I know you humans have lost your touch when it comes to your gods and goddesses – especially those as old as I."_

Rose couldn't help but open her eyes to the light. To her surprise, it didn't blind her. "Gods?"she asked, barely above a whisper.

" _We have a lot to talk about, Rose Potter. After all, our fates are tied, it seems. You and I...we...are one."_

And then, there was nothing.


	2. The Successor

Rose stirred, a shiver going through her body after a cool gust of wind woke her up. Slowly, she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, unable to stifle a yawn breaking through. Another gust of wind was followed by another shiver, forcing her into taking stock of her situation. Looking around, she saw trees and even more trees. Her feet were bare and dirty and her clothing consisted of her cousin's oversized pyjamas – which didn't really do a lot to keep her warm.

Then she remembered. She remembered leaving the Dursleys in the middle of the night because a voice – someone calling herself Morrigan – had called her. And she had claimed to be a goddess of all things! But there had been so much light and, apparently, she was in Ireland now?

She didn't particularly mind because that meant that she was very far away from her relatives and that finding her would be quite the task for them. Then, she had to chuckle without any humour – they probably were celebrating her disappearance at this very moment. She really hated them with a passion.

" _As you should. You are too powerful and important to just take such insults."_

Starting at the sudden voice, Rose tried to calm her frantic heart. "Where are you?"

" _What is the last thing you remember me saying, child?"_

Rose cocked her head to the side, trying to remember. "We, uh...you said that 'we are one'?"

" _Indeed. I am a part of you now. My spirit – my essence – is in you."_

Rose's head was swimming. A spirit? A part of her? How was any of this even real?

" _Yes, I can see how this might seem outlandish to you. You poor child – you have been denied of your heritage for too long. Get up to your feet and walk a bit."_

After a couple of moments, Rose decided she had nothing else to do and did as told, though as soon as she was standing she realized she had no idea where to go in the first place. "Uhh…"

" _Follow the crows, child. Have you not learned anything yet?"_

To say that annoyed, scolding tone didn't sting would be a blatant lie, but Rose kept her tongue in check for now. That woman – _that voice_ – she didn't know enough to risk angering her – or it – yet. Maybe it was just a fabrication of her imagination. Or...maybe all of it was real. Weird things had happened to her before, like her hair growing back overnight after one of Petunia's terrible haircuts or her injuries healing only hours after one of Vernon's beatings. And she could still go on. She wouldn't mind for it to be real, even if it scared her a bit.

 _"I assure you, everything I told you is very real,"_ the woman – _Morrigan_ – said and Rose could make out a bit of exasperation in her voice. _"I neither have the need nor use for petty lies, child. The mere thought is insulting and I do not take lightly to insults. Now walk. Follow my – no,_ our _crows. From today on, they will be your closest companions, your guides and your messengers."_

"Okay…"

As soon as that one word left her mouth, she heard a sharp caw just above her, startling her and making her look up. On a tree-branch, she could see a crow sitting there, looking at her, then turning its head a bit to the right from her position. Shrugging, Rose moved to follow the crow's guidance.

_"Rose."_

"Yes?" Rose was getting worried that she felt like she was getting used to talking to a voice in her head.

_"You need to stop getting frightened at every sudden sound. No enemy will respect you like this."_

She furrowed her brows. "I have no enemy. Only Dud-"

Morrigan interrupted her with a sharp laugh. _"That boy is not even worth the dirt under your fingernails! He has no idea of what you are and are yet to become. A little, foolish boy relishing in foolish, boyish antics. Do not insult yourself by making it sound like he is your equal. No one is your equal! Do you understand?"_

Rose stopped walking, a bit stunned at those words. She had never had such lavishing praise heaped upon her and they sounded like lies to her ears, she had to admit. And yet, she wanted to believe those lies. She wanted to be _more_ than she had been led to believe by the Dursleys.

" _I expect answers when I ask something, child."_

"I – yeah. I mean, yes, I understand."

" _Good. Now, keep walking."_

* * *

Rose wasn't sure for how long she had kept walking, but the early chill of the Irish morning had passed. The sun was high in the sky, just about visible through the trees' thick crowns, and the temperatures were fairly mild. Even though the last thing she had eaten had been mere scraps from the Dursleys' supper, she didn't really feel hungry. She was just a bit tired from all the walking and her feet were really sore at this point.

Still, she powered through.

" _Your perseverance and determination is quite something to behold. It gives me hope. After centuries upon centuries, you might just be the one I have been seeking for all this time."_

"What do you mean?" Rose asked.

" _You weren't my first candidate. There were many more before you."_

Many before her? She wasn't exactly sure what Morrigan meant, but there was something else Rose wanted to know even more and, though Rose dreaded the answer, she still asked the question. "What...what happened to them?"

_"Dead. All of them."_

It was said in such a matter-of-fact way that it terrified Rose to the core.

_"You will shed that fear like a reptile sheds its skin – you will grow out of it. Death is the fate of all living things. It is what I am – the Goddess of death and fate, of strife and war. And you will become me – if you survive long enough."_

Her mind was reeling. She – _she_ – was supposed to become a goddess?! _She_ was supposed to become Morrigan?! A death goddess?! This all sounded like something Dudley would do just to prank her. "How – I mean, why – I mean…" She stopped walking and sat down on the forest floor, leaning against one of the many trees. Just what had she gotten herself into?

_"You should feel privileged that I am even offering this opportunity. If you so wish, I will just take over your body for a mere moment and take you back to your lovely family. They surely must have begun searching for you in earnest."_

Even Rose had to scoff at that. She _hated_ the Dursleys with every fibre of her being. She hated, hat _ed, hated_ them. She'd rather jump off a cliff than go back to Privet Drive. "How...how am I…" She couldn't even take the words into her mouth. It all sounded too ridiculous, even in her head.

_"How are you supposed to become The Morrigan? The Phantom Queen herself? Me? At this very moment, my very essence has begun merging itself with your soul. Your soul will either wither and die or it will accept my essence. If it is the latter, we will become one – you will be me and I – or this essence of me, to be more precise – will become you."_

"But won't you die?"

There was a moment of silence, then the airy laughter of Morrigan rang in her head. _"Me? Dying? Ridiculous. I am more than just human. You will be as well. After many centuries my body gave in to time itself and I left this earth. A bit of my essence remained, however, looking for a suitable soul. And here we are."_

"B-but, why didn't you just come back?" Why did _she_ have to become the... _the Morrigan_? Why couldn't she just be a Rose Potter who didn't live with the Dursleys?

_"I have spent so much time on this plane, incited and ended countless wars, seduced countless men to do my whim and even given birth to their children – new challenges awaited me elsewhere but I could not leave this plane without a suitable successor – a role you will hopefully fulfil. So far, your soul appears to not struggle against my essence, unlike the other fragment I destroyed."_

"Fragment?"

_"Nothing of importance as of now. Just another mortal playing at immortal. Human hubris. Nothing you need to worry about. You are being touched by a goddess and as such, on your way to becoming as close to one as a human possibly can. You are above such foolery."_

"So...I can't die?"

_"Your body can. It won't survive being beheaded or burnt. The mortal soul won't cycle from life to death and back from death to life. It will leave for the Otherworld. You, on the other hand, will still be aware of everything. You will control what you will do, should your body die. Maybe you will take over someone else's body – my dear Dagda most certainly did – or you do as I do, leave a bit of your essence so it can find someone to take over from you, while you move on to elsewhere. It will be your decision."_

Rose let out a shaky breath. Life used to be easy. It had been cruel, yes, but it still used to be easy. This whole situation with gods and souls and essences – it was a bit too much. Just a tad. "Why me?" she finally asked.

_"Your cries have been the loudest yet. Of all the potential candidates over the past centuries, your cries have been so very loud and clear. And your fate is so closely tied to death...it was an easy decision for me to make – to call upon you, that is."_

"What –?"

_"Walk, Rose. Just a little bit more, dear child. All will be clear very soon and then I will see if you will finally be the one."_

With a sigh and new determination, Rose got back up to her feet, not realizing how badly she needed the rest until after it was over. Her legs and feet hurt, but she'd see this through, just for the answers she was expecting. A goddess of death had sought her out and led her to...wherever. If she was honest, she wasn't all that afraid of death. Morrigan was right after all – everyone was going to die at some point. And, personally, if she still were with the Dursleys, then she'd probably prefer death over that life. Maybe she'd get to see her parents if that was possible in the other world or whatever Morrigan had called it.

_"The Otherworld. It is a single word. It is the realm of all Celtic deities – myself included, although I am older than the Celts. It is also where the dead go. Your parents are there as well. They have been born on the isles, so their souls belong to us."_

Rose was excited to hear that, though she wasn't sure why. "So they...live...kind of?"

_"Don't be foolish, child. They are mortals, violently killed by that –"_

"But –"

Morrigan's suddenly thundering voice made Rose drop to her knees and clutch her head in pain. _"Do not. Interrupt me. Even if you are privileged because you may ascend to be more than a mere human, you are still but a mortal, Rose."_

Rose whimpered, still in incredible pain. So, that was what an angry goddess in one's head felt like. She certainly could do without that for the rest of her life.

_"Walk. You have almost arrived."_

The headache subsided slowly and Rose gathered herself back up, swaying a bit. "Wh-what did you mean my parents –"

_"Walk."_

She winced in pain and huffed in annoyance, but went back to walking. It was basically all she had done all day, but answers awaited and she wanted – no, she _needed_ them. So she kept walking. Trees and thickets and boulders and moss and nothing else had been her vista throughout the day and the monotony would have gotten to her, had she not been living through the most bizarre day of her life. But, she'd power through. If for nothing else than the answers, she'd still power through.

And soon, she encountered a flicker in the middle of the air, making her stop in her tracks. She had a feeling that, wherever she was, she had arrived. "Morrigan?"

_"Step through, child. You are magic and, even if you were not, my essence is with you. You will not be harmed."_

Now she was magic too. Shaking her head and ignoring the billions of questions in her head, she took another step and felt like she was walking through the thickest and hottest of waters in existence, her lungs burning and –

A painful gasp later, she found herself on her hands and knees, staring at a dark floor. "I thought...you said I wouldn't be harmed!"

_"You haven't been really harmed. It was a small punishment for interrupting me. Now walk over to the large stone basin in front of my throne."_

Rose gritted her teeth. Goddess or not, Morrigan started to really grind on her nerves, which, to her annoyance, earned her an amused chuckle by the goddess.

_"Good. You are not a simpleton who only does what she is told and takes every raised voice submissively. If you are to succeed me in this realm you will have to be strong. No slight or insult will have to go unpunished. Men who refused my advances have died for it."_

Rose didn't understand what Morrigan meant with that but she figured it was something really petty, just from the context. Whatever it was, it was not what she wanted answers for, so she walked to the basin Morrigan had talked about. It wasn't just a 'large basin'; it was huge. She could comfortably take a bath in it, even swim a few laps if she wanted. She leaned a bit closer to see quite a few engravings, though she wasn't quite sure what those symbols meant. The basin was filled with some sort of smoke, constantly in motion inside of it.

Looking away from the basin and around herself, the room was simple and sparsely furnished. It was all stone, even the throne itself, and there were only a few shelves filled with countless books. There was also a table with a black feather, something filled with a dark liquid she assumed to be ink and some yellowish paper. What was curious was the way this room was illuminated. She saw no fire or any other source of light, no windows or anything of that kind and yet, it was bright enough to comfortably see.

_"You are a child of magic, Rose."_

She thought as much because of that earlier comment about how she was _magic_ and how that flicker-thing in the air couldn't hurt her because of it. It was kind of nutters, but also kind of made sense, considering all the weird things that had happened around her throughout her life. Normal people couldn't do those things. Normal people couldn't walk through a forest in England and suddenly end up in Ireland or walk through a flicker in the air and end up in this place. Magic...magic was an explanation which, as unbelievable as it sounded, _made sense_.

_"It does, doesn't it. Now step in front of the basin and put a hand into the smoke. Then, you will say the following words: 'Taispeáin dom an fhírinne ionam.'"_

Rose reached out with a hand into the smoke; it caressed her skin with a chilly touch. She then repeated the words to the best of her ability. The smoke then grew thicker, seemingly sinking through the very pores of her skin.

And then, the visions began.

She saw a man, small and chubby, telling another – this one looking like a snake – a secret. She saw the snake-man invading a house and killing a man with glasses and messy, black hair. She saw the snake-man then in front of a woman, said woman begging him to spare her baby. She saw him killing the woman, then him aiming a stick at the crying baby. Green light came out of the stick and something impossibly bright appeared just before it hit the baby. The snake-man's body imploded and something small and smokey went for the baby, sinking into its forehead and creating a lightning scar.

The baby was her.

She saw a giant picking her up and bringing her to someone with a very long beard and half-moon glasses. She saw him leave her at Privet Drive's front door.

The smoke retracted itself back into the basin and Rose dropped to her knees. "Was that light...was it you?"

_"Indeed. A mortal insulting me like that? I think not. It also is not time for the war to end just yet."_

"Why didn't you save my parents?" Rose asked, feeling bitter and angry. Morrigan obviously could have saved them.

_"I had seen that it was their fate to die that night."_

She scoffed. That answer was not satisfying at all.

_"I am not a charity, Rose, and neither will you be – if you make it far enough. You will have incredible power, but you will also have lines drawn for you. If someone is fated to die at a given time, then they will. If you save everyone out of pity or sympathy, you will anger powers as big as you will be. You can manipulate fate to an extent – I know I did – but, and this will be my only warning: if you make fate your plaything, I will return to this plane and smite you myself."_

"Fine…" She could understand. She really could. That didn't mean that she liked it.

_"Good. Now, Rose, tell me – what do you want to do?"_

It didn't take long for her to find an answer. Her heart hurt in ways she didn't think possible, but here she was, filled with anger, bloodlust and grief. "I want to become...I want to be your successor here. I want to...I want that snake bloke and the other one to die."

In her head, she could feel Morrigan nod approvingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taispeáin dom an fhírinne ionam. = Show me the truth of me (Irish, online translation).
> 
> Feel free to correct me if I am wrong!


	3. Dá Chích na Morrígna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! A rewritten chapter three. It changes the direction of the fic a bit, but not by much. Just, more depths beyond a godly power boost for Rose. Thanks to my Beta Peinigerfor discussing this with me and working tirelessly with me through it! I deleted the previous Chapter 3 to ensure that everyone will get a notification for this rewritten version. It just seems like the best way to go about this for me! I hope you will enjoy this "upgraded" new direction!

The Morrigan's shapeshifting ability was something Rose enjoyed a lot, especially her crow form. Flying over the County Meath, she admired the landscape, the lush greens of the countryside as well as the busy hustle and bustle of the Irishmen and -women in the towns and cities. Locked away, hidden from the world, in the goddess's realm and learning from her from day to night, she was aware of how much of the world she had missed. At the same time, however, Rose also knew that it had been no different during her time with the Dursleys. Both in the Morrigan's realm and in Privet Drive she had been kept in isolation, separate from the world around her, in her own tiny universe. As much as she did begrudge the Dursleys for it, as little did she put any blame on the goddess. Her stay in the Morrigan's realm had at least been productive. Slaving away for the Dursleys and getting mere scraps of food for her hard work made her anger more than justifiable. The Morrigan, however, had spent the time she had Rose locked away with grooming her, teaching her, educating her. Even hunting game and foraging for edible forest fruits had been on the curriculum. It had been good fun.

Now, however, their relationship was reaching its closing stages and Rose was feeling the ever-waning presence of her companion for the past three years. She was not sure how to feel about it.

 _"You are strong enough to handle this power and responsibility on your own._ I _have chosen you, after all."_

Rose let the rare praise wash through her. One should savour such rare moments after all.

She kept flying, enjoying the sensation of the wind brushing through her dark feathers. The River Boyne came into vision and she knew that she'd find a spectacular site if she'd follow it to its bend. The Morrigan had told her about it, about _Brú na Bóinne_ , the Boyne Valley tombs. Inside there was the entrance to the Otherworld, the place where the palace of the gods was and where human souls went to after they died. She trusted the Morrigan enough by now to believe her when she said that her parents went there after being killed by the snake-man. Now was not the time to visit that place yet, though. For now, she had other tasks to accomplish to establish herself before the merge would be complete.

A pair of hills on the horizon caught her attention, not that much farther away from Brú na Bóinne, standing out from the, in comparison, flat landscape like a pair of breasts. _Dá Chích na Morrígna_ , she thought while still flying in her crow form. _The two breasts of the Morrigan._

" _Indeed, child. At the height of my power, humans tended to go there on pilgrimage and my priestesses also used it as a site for rituals. Back when my name and the_ _Tuatha Dé Danann had meaning for humans."_

Rose didn't comment further on the poorly hidden bitterness she could detect every time the Morrigan hinted, no matter how remotely, at the religious conversion from the Old Gods to Christianity. She'd probably be just as bitter had she been in her place. Soon, it would be on her to bring new fame to the title and name of the Morrigan, the Triple Goddess. She'd either succeed or vanish into obscurity like the Morrigan herself did before her.

After a few more moments of silent flight, they arrived at the foot of Dá Chích na Morrígna, right at the area in between the two hills. Rose landed while changing back to her human form in one smooth motion and looked around, seeing little else than vast grassland and the odd group of trees strewn across. "It doesn't look all that special, to be honest," she said, the annoyed huff of the Goddess in her head making her smile a little.

" _Walk through the intermammary cleft and you will arrive at something special."_

Rose did as the Goddess told her to and walked towards the valley between the hills, her cheeks heating up a bit. "Those aren't literal breasts, you know? You don't have to use anatomical terms."

" _They might as well be. Men loved my breasts, Dagda most of all."_ Rose didn't say anything, which the Morrigan apparently took as her cue to continue. _"You need to embrace your femininity, child. Let go of that shyness and take pride in your body for it is the greatest and most dangerous weapon you possess. Baring the soft skin of your thighs or leaning forward to grant a glance at your cleavage – you will play every man like puppeteers their puppets."_

Again, Rose didn't comment on it. She knew, of course, that the Morrigan spoke from millennia of experience, or for however long she had existed. She knew she wasn't ugly or anything and, if she may say so herself, her black hair, green eyes and pale complexion all contrasted each other rather nicely. Her petite form also suited her well, though puberty would have to show if she'd ever reach average height or grow average-sized breasts. Still, she liked what she had to offer. She wasn't shy because she hated how she looked. She was shy because the family raising her wasn't just morally bankrupt, they were hypocrites to boot. Showing themselves off as practising Christians and going to Church, talking about decency and whatnot. At the same time, they didn't hold back from abusing a child. Growing up in such a household certainly had done a number on her and even now, freed from them, she still couldn't even touch herself freely because a Goddess was in her head.

" _And what is so bad about that? There are people who enjoy being watched. Dagda and I certainly weren't shy to make love outside. I still remember that time by the River Unshin. That brute of a man asked me for a prophecy right afterwards."_

Rose had to snicker at that. Even the very promiscuous Goddess of War expected at least some romance from her beloved, or so it seemed.

" _With other men, it always was just for the pleasure of the flesh, for the raw satisfaction of my bodily needs. With Dagda, however, it was always more emotional. He gave me something others couldn't and others gave me something he couldn't."_

They were silent for another few moments, Rose now just a bit out of breath. Their trek through the valley between the hills took longer than she had expected but she didn't mind. She enjoyed being outside more than she enjoyed being cooped up in the Goddess's realm. It was a nice change of pace and the nice spring weather in midday was enough to keep one's spirit high. Ireland's nature was beautiful, no doubt.

Rose noticed how the valley was starting to narrow and how the pathway looked less used the farther she went. Left and right the hills were now looming menacingly above them and she was sure that they didn't seem that high before. The sky looked darker as well, the clear, bright blue now gone. "What is going on?" Rose asked, looking around to maybe find answers but none were to be had.

_"I have an inkling. Keep walking. You have soon reached your goal."_

Rose sighed but had gotten used to the Morrigan's quirks by now. One was that she rarely gave straight answers, though she had to wonder if she always had been like that or if she was just like that for educational reasons. After all, the Morrigan had also been an oracle, foretelling the outcome of battles and wars. She'd have to look those things up in the future. Surely there'd be some things written down by the Goddess.

_"When asked for prophecies, I would always use exact wordings."_

Rose shrugged. "Okay." One less thing for her to look up.

She kept on walking until a wide area at the end of the pathway was now visible and a sudden feeling of danger surged through her, forcing her to an abrupt stop.

 _"Change,"_ the Morrigan demanded.

Rose didn't question her and changed immediately into her crow form, flying up into the air. The higher she flew, the clearer the sky became again, though the darkness remained below. She started to circle the area and could make out ancient-looking structures, though she was unable to put a finger on what exactly it was supposed to be back when it had been built.

 _"A gathering place for guardianship, for rituals, for prayers and pilgrimage, as I have told you before."_ There was a short pause before the Goddess continued. _"And the beast you see below is a Fomorian."_

 _Beast-?_ Rose looked down again, and there, behind a broken group of large rocks looking like what used to be an altar of sorts was a sickly-green-skinned and entirely hairless monstrosity with elongated clawed limbs and a fanged mouth. She could see that its eyes were different sizes as well and its whole shape just appeared to be deformed – its too long arms and legs made it look bigger than it actually was. It was hideous.

_"This one is just the very lowest form. It has no sense of self and exists just to destroy. It serves no other purpose. There are some who are gods like myself, like you will be. Balor and Ethniu, for example."_

_Should I kill it?_ Rose asked, or rather thought.

_"Just ignore it. Fly through the entrance behind the altar, grab the sword at the end of it and then teleport yourself back to my realm. In that order."_

Rose dove towards the ground, flying as fast as she could. The creature looked up, screeching and baring its fangs at her. A startled caw escaped her as she dodged a clawed hand, not expecting its long arms to stretch like that. She dodged it with a quick reflex and followed the Morrigan's directions, flying past the altar and into the stone structure nestled between the highest points of Dá Chích na Morrígna. The entrance, which was a simple hole in one of the hills, was hard to make out in the presence of the darkness of the screeching creature, but she found it quickly enough to leave the Fomorian behind. Apparently, it didn't want to follow her any further.

She didn't mind though and changed back into her human form to walk the rest of the way; flying in such narrow halls was impractical at best. While walking, she noticed small braziers lighting up on both sides as if by magic, something that probably was true. The dim, flickering light of the magical fires revealed drawings on the narrow hallway's walls. Stepping closer to take a look at them, Rose could make out simplistic drawings of birds, which she assumed were supposed to be crows, and of people with swords and shields, probably depicting battles and wars.

_"Many leaders have come here to pray for victories before heading to their battles and wars or to thank me after winning whatever skirmish they have fought in. Sometimes I have started them, sometimes I have influenced their outcome, sometimes I have simply watched. Whatever struck my fancy at the time."_

Rose nodded. Goddess of war or not, it was obvious that the Morrigan was not always responsible for them. Most of the time? Probably. The screeching of the Fomorian was still echoing through the hallway, causing the hair at the back of her neck to stand. It also served as a reminder for her to keep moving. So, she kept walking inwards, the beast's screeches losing its volume while her own steps became clearer to hear. The braziers kept lighting themselves up, left and right from her, the air inside became stuffier the farther she left the entrance behind.

There were a few more moments of walking until she finally reached a wider area and, after a second or two of darkness, multiple braziers lit themselves up all around her, forming a circle of warmth and shimmering light. In the middle of the circular room, placed on a dusty table made out of stone, Rose saw what she came for. She wasn't sure what she expected, but she had to admit that she was surprised by the weapon's rather simplistic design. It looked like a normal steel sword with its grip wrapped in dark leather. There was nothing overly fancy about it; no gems, no outlandish decoration, nothing to make it stand out in any shape or form.

_"It suits you the way it suited me. Go on. Take it."_

Rose gulped and stepped towards it, reaching out her hand and feeling the cold, hard leather of its grip. She then wrapped her fingers tightly around it and –

_'Morrigan, Battle Queen, give me the gift of relentlessness –'_

_'I call to you Great Queen Morrígu,_

_Lady of Phantoms, be with me now –'_

_'Great Goddess Morrigan, may your strong shield be between myself and all harm and danger –'_

Her head was swimming with voices – two or three, she could not quite tell – and she could feel the mixture of satisfaction and disappointment in the Morrigan's presence.

_"I remember hearing tens of thousands of voices at a time, during the height of my power. There were maybe a hundred thousand humans populating this island then. Now, five million humans inhabit the republic of Ireland, two million inhabit Northern Ireland. The whole of Earth, interconnected as it is, has a population of over seven billion. Two are praying to me – to you, one is daring to invoke you."_

"Oh." The disappointment was understandable now.

_"At least you are able to hear these few prayers. The merging is indeed a success so far and will likely be so once it is completed. Now return to my realm."_

And Rose did.


	4. The Prayers

The initial shock of hearing actual prayers waned after a few moments following her return to the Morrigan's realm. She should be used to hearing voices in her head, considering that she had done so for the past three years and yet, it had been anything but. The emotions conveyed through the prayers were strong, and she felt them to her very core, even now that they had dwindled into nothingness. It was an odd sensation, without a doubt.

_"Now imagine this a thousandfold."_

Rose tried but failed to. Feeling the emotions of prayers meant for her, of people asking for her blessing, for her favour – it was an overwhelming thought, to say the least.

_"It shouldn't be, for prayers are your source of power."_

She cocked her head to the side at that. "What do you mean?" Rose asked while walking to the Morrigan's throne and sitting down. For a large chair made out of wood and stone with only very old cushioning, it was surprisingly comfortable. She especially liked the purple linen decorations draped over the throne's back.

_"To pray, someone has to believe first. That belief, especially if the believer is a child of magic, is what gives you your power. Since humans converted to Christianity and the ways of the old Gods – me, Dagda, Lugh, Ethniu and many more – once our way got lost to humans, our power was lost as well. You won't be almighty once you truly become me. You will have to start from the very bottom, child, and how far you can climb is up to you."_

Rose rested her elbow on the throne's armrest and her head in her hand, chewing on her bottom lip. "But I can do stuff. You taught me things."

_"Magic, shapeshifting, even foreseeing the future of all things – they come naturally to me. But, by my very nature, my power depends on the belief of my worshippers. When their belief wavers, then my power wanes."_

"That makes sense, I guess. So, the magic I can do now…?"

_"It is weak. When I fought the Fomorians with the Tuatha dé Danann, I was powerful enough to cover areas far beyond the camps with a layer of fog I blew."_

Rose raised a brow. "You _blew_ fog?"

_"Indeed. I am a Goddess. Foci are for mortals."_

The same went for her, Rose knew. She held out her hand to create a small dancing flame. It was effortless by now, but she wondered how far she'd be able to go if the Morrigan had once been able to create a thick layer of fog to cover a large portion of land with her breath alone. All she needed was to be renown among the people, to convert their faith back to the old Gods. That couldn't be easy though.

_"I knew Christianity would sap us of our strength and yet I could not prevent it. None of us could."_

"But didn't you try to find out how to rise again?"

_"I did. But Christianity was shown to me as the end of my power. It held truth, as my prophecies always do."_

Rose leaned back against the chair and crossed one leg over the other. The Morrigan had certainly given her a lot to think about.

_"Rest for now. In the morrow, we will speak again."_

"One last thing – do I have to be there to bless the praying person?"

The Morrigan chuckled lightly. _"Focus on a prayer and you will know where to go."_

* * *

Rose woke up, unsure of the time. Spending the most amount of her day in this realm made it difficult to get a real grasp of mornings and evenings. Time tended to blur here.

After getting her bearings, whispers made themselves known in her head. Prayers, again, took hold in her heart and she felt the desperation in one.

_'Great Queen Morrigan, please protect me from harm, please please lend me your shield, please help me!'_

Another was more subdued but asked for her favour as well.

_'Goddess Morrigan, grant me your resolve –'_

She was about to quickly get up and get dressed, ready to help the few believers she had, but the Morrigan's voice stopped her before she even managed to get out of bed.

_"Rose."_

Rose sat up, the blanket sliding down her bare skin. It had taken her quite a while to get used to sleeping in the nude. "Yes?"

_"Our time is limited, the merge is on the verge of being completed. Yet it seems I have to spend my remaining time reminding you that you are not a charity."_

"But don't I have to answer those prayers anyway?" Rose asked, getting irritated. "Protecting and helping believers is what I need to do or not?"

_"No. If you start helping one, just out of the goodness of your heart, then another will hear and demand the same. Soon, you will not hear prayers asking for your help but demanding it. They will not pray to you to strengthen their belief in you. They will pray because they believe they will get something out of it. It is human nature."_

"You always make it sound like all of us are –"

_"You are not human!"_

The outburst surprised Rose, her eyes wide open and a hand over her bare chest, trying to calm her frantic heart down.

_"Three years and you still make the same mistake! You are not human! You are above and beyond them! A human does not pray to humans! Distance and separate yourself from them or fail!"_

Rose frowned and looked down at the blanket resting on her legs. "I understand what you're saying, but it isn't that easy."

_"It is. You either understand and embrace what you are and act accordingly or humans will abuse your...benevolence. Those are the options you have. For as long as you see yourself as one of them, even if just for a bit, you will not succeed."_

Moments of quiet followed the Morrigan's words, Rose still in thought. She understood what the Goddess was saying, but it simply was not that easy. If there was a good person in need, why would she not help? If only she could protect a child in danger, why would she not do so?

_"You are no hero."_

"But you helped me."

 _"I helped myself. Do you really think you are the only abused child? Do you really think you are the only abused child_ of magic _? You_ are _the only one tied by Fate to Tom Riddle, however."_

"The snake-man."

_"Indeed. It made you stand out – and your drive and resolve to last for as long as you did, I will grant you that."_

Rose let herself flop back onto her bed. How could she suddenly act like she was above everyone else? It went against her very being. Sure, she mainly accepted the Morrigan's proposition out of her desire to kill those two people responsible for her parent's deaths, and the power was a great incentive as well, but that didn't mean she would just give up what made her human.

_"You must – and you will."_

Another moment of silence passed.

_"It is...time."_

_Oh_. "The merge?"

_"Indeed. Heed...my words, child. Embrace...what you have become and let...go of what...you were."_

Rose sighed. "I'll try." The lack of a response or even just a presence in her mind had her cock her head to the side. "Morrigan?"

No sound, no indication that anyone was there. Beyond her own breathing and the creaking of the bed at the slightest movement, she heard nothing. The constant presence of the Goddess for the past three years had disappeared and her guidance was gone.

She was on her own now. _How anticlimactic._

She was on her own, but the Morrigan's words still rang through her. She would have to tread with wary steps, that much she could accept. But, by herself, she could just do what felt right. Without someone constantly looking over her shoulder, she had the freedom to do so.

She could manage. She _would_ manage.

* * *

She flew out of her portal and arrived in a small town in North-England, flying over the houses and towards her destination. She wanted to see one of those praying to the Morrigan – to her.

 _She_ was the Morrigan, here, on this plane, now that her soul had absorbed the Morrigan's essence. It was still such a foreign concept to her, so she pushed that thought aside.

She focused back on the prayer drawing her in, calling for her. It pulled her towards the outskirts of the town, and moments later, a small house came into vision, its small garden dirty with garbage strewn across and the grass dried out and obviously not tended to. The house itself was in desperate need of renovation with the colour peeling off and several roof tiles missing. Rose had a feeling that those weren't even the worst indicators of the house's state, just the most obvious. She flew to a window on the first floor and landed on the window sill, looking inside. There she saw a young girl, probably a couple or so years older than her. Black and straight hair, very pale skin, black trousers, a black t-shirt. She was kneeling in front of her bed, her hands folded in front of her, and even though Rose couldn't hear her through the window, she heard the prayer loud and clear.

_'Morrigan, Morrigan, three times three,_

_Hear the words I ask of thee._

_Grant me vision, Grant me power,_

_Cheer me in my darkest hour._

_As the night overtakes the day,_

_Morrigan, Morrigan, light my way.'_

Rose lowered her head a bit. It wouldn't hurt to grant the girl a blessing, would it? Just to give her the resolve to keep moving forward. The way the girl was praying felt even physically wrong to her but turning away because of that...she just couldn't. So, she cawed once, gaining the girl's attention, and opened her wings wide. She felt a warm embrace on her small crow-form and she knew that the girl was feeling her crow-form's feathers and warmth on herself. She had given the girl her blessing, the resolve she so craved.

It was a good deed, and the girl's wide-open eyes and mouth, the black streaks of teary make-up running down her cheeks – it felt worth it.

Still, Rose couldn't help the sense of detachment throughout.

* * *

She waited a day before paying a visit to the other person she had heard praying. This one she was more curious about because this one's desperation was palpable, settling in her stomach. It was pulling her with a force she found surprising and wondered how the Morrigan had dealt with this throughout her own lifetime if it was something one would get used to.

This location was a lot more rural than the first one, and she had yet to see any buildings beyond one looking like a small mansion planted in the middle of nowhere in Scotland's highlands. More curious than that, however, was the magic she was feeling around the house. It was strong and old, but nothing to prevent her from entering the property. She was glad too because it would be the first time she would come see someone from this world, from the world her parents had been a part of. It excited her to see this small world, and she was of a mind to actually talk to the believer.

After another minute or two of flying, she finally reached the property, the magic brushing over her with feather-light touches as she flew through it. As with her first believer, she landed on the window sill of the room she was guided to. This time, inside was a boy around her age, lying on his bed, curled up. She wasn't sure if he was asleep or not, but she still heard his prayers, frantically whispered. It was the same one she had heard before, asking for her protection. His position, the way he was lying in bed – it reminded her of herself in the most painful of ways. It reminded her of the closet, of the hunger pangs, of the spiders she had to keep brushing off of her.

Her decision made, Rose tapped her black beak against the window, trying to get his attention. The boy rolled over so he faced her. She tapped the window again, causing the boy to furrow his brows at her and get up from the bed. Noticing slight twitches in his movements, Rose cocked her head to the side, a low questioning caw escaping her. Upon reaching the window, the boy opened it, and she flew right in, changing back to her human form.

The boy gasped in shock and stumbled backwards, crashing into his wardrobe. "Who are you?! Get out!" he hissed at her.

Rose didn't answer immediately and took stock of her surroundings first. The boy's room didn't look at all like what she imagined a teenage boy's room to look like: it was classy in an old, aristocratic way with a lot of wooden, dark furniture. It gave off a kind of bleak vibe and felt oppressive.

She then returned her attention to the boy, whom she felt was quite handsome in a rough, rugged kind. His eyes, she noticed, flickered from her legs to her cleavage and back before he forced himself to settle on her face. The Morrigan's wardrobe certainly helped with gaining attention it seemed, the simple yet revealing robes doing their jobs without any issues. Rose did her best to not feel uncomfortable because of said attention, as difficult as it was.

"Again: who are you?"

Rose sighed. "I'm the Morrigan and I've heard your prayer and was curious." It felt odd to refer to herself as 'the Morrigan'.

The boy glared at her. "Don't mess with me! You are just a kid!"

Rose cocked her head to the side. "You think I'm a liar?" A crow landed on the window sill, followed by another and another. "You think I would lie about being the Triple Goddess? I have heard your prayer, word for word. The first I heard, I liked the most: 'Great Goddess Morrigan, may your strong shield be between myself and all –'"

"That doesn't prove anything," the boy said, though his blush was obvious.

Rose held out her right hand and allowed her sword to materialize in it, a small smile playing around her lips at the boy's open gaping. "I am the Morrigan," Rose said, pointing the tip of the sword at him, "and I have questions for you."

"You...are you really…?"

Rose held out her left hand in a way as if she were about to cup the boy's cheek, again feeling the warmth of a phantom embrace. The boy touched his right cheek, wide-eyed.

"The...I feel...no pain." He looked at her and dropped to his knees. "You heard me! You really heard me!"

"I did," Rose said and walked over to his desk, jumping up and sitting on it. She then crossed a leg over the other, her eyes fixated on the boy. "What's your name?"

"Theodore Nott, my Goddess," he said, still kneeling and not daring to look at her. She did her best to not openly show her discomfort at that title.

"Theodore...is someone hurting you?" Rose asked, remembering his position in bed, the way he was curled up, the way he was limping and twitching when he walked towards the window.

Theodore didn't answer, which only served to confirm her suspicion.

"Who?" she asked, her voice demanding and firm. "You don't want to lie to me, do you?" Rose almost cringed at that and it just felt weird to be in such a dominant position over someone. As soon as she had blessed him, his devotion to her was palpable. Just being in the presence of this boy gave her a noticeable change of... _something._ _This_ probably was what the Morrigan had said when talking about the power of belief.

"N-no…"

"Stand up, Theodore, and look at me."

He did as told.

Rose leaned slightly forward, resting her elbow on a thigh and her chin in the palm of her hand. "Who is abusing you? _Look at me_ ," she added firmly when his eyes cast downwards again.

"My...father…"

She barely even heard the last word, it was muttered so lowly, but it was enough.

"Please do something about him!" he suddenly begged her, back down on his knees. "Please! He killed my mother! I'll do anything you ask of me, just protect me from him!"

Rose was mildly startled at the sudden outburst from Theodore, at the tears suddenly running down his cheeks. However, she also had the feeling that, with barely any effort from her side, she had just found her _in_ into the magic world.

She jumped down from the desk, dematerialized the sword and crossed her arms over her chest. "Answer a few of my questions then, and I will grant you your wish."

"Anything!"

Rose nodded. "You are a child of magic, right?"

"Child of –? If you are asking if I have magic, then yes, my Goddess."

Again, she cringed inwardly. _My Goddess._ "Yes, that's what I meant." She looked around the room once more and noticed the edge of a book peeking out from under his pillow. Curious, she lifted the pillow and took the book, her attention drawn to its title. "Morrígu – The Phantom Queen." She cocked a brow at him. "That's a pretty accurate depiction of my sword on the cover."

"It's...it was in our library. The book! I mean, the book was in our library."

Rose hummed. "I see. Tell me about this magic world of yours. What is it like? How do you learn magic? What are your limits? I've not had the chance to experience magic like yours yet."

He looked confused though he didn't question her. "We have...a school where we spend most of the year from when we are eleven-years-old to when we are seventeen-years-old. We aren't allowed to use magic outside of school if we are under seventeen years old if that counts for a limit."

She pursed her lips at that. "Sounds stupid." Leafing a bit through the book, she put it aside after a moment and asked her next question. "What do you learn at this school?"

Theodore shrugged. "Just...magic, I guess? Things like brewing potions and learning spells."

"And do you use foci?" she asked, creating a small dancing flame in the palm of her hand. It was her favourite spell.

Theodore looked at her hand with the wide-eyed excitement of a small child, and she couldn't deny that she revelled in it. "Yes, we have wands...we can't...we can't use magic like that – at least not that I know of."

Rose nodded. She was curious enough to want to observe that school and see what life could have been like if she would have had the opportunity to attend it. "When will you go back to that school?"

"In...in a month. September 1st. The train leaves from King's Cross Station in London," Theodore said.

Nodding again, she cocked her hip a bit to the side, then crossed her arms over her chest. "I will follow you there when the time comes." She then walked over to the window, ready to head back out when Theodore stopped her.

"What about my father?" It wasn't a demanding tone, though it still irked her some.

"I never said I wouldn't deal with him, did I?" Without waiting for a reply, she jumped outside of the window and changed into her crow form, flying away.

* * *

Nott Senior looked like someone she might have expected to have violent tendencies even towards his own child. She had waited for quite some time for him to leave his house, a few days at least. Now, late at night, her first impression of him was less than poor. She didn't know why, and if Theodore admitting to his father's violence and even murder had anything to do with it, but just looking at him set something off in her, like alarm bells or the instinct to be careful around him. Whatever it was, he needed to be dealt with.

So, she flew down from her perched position on a tree and landed in front of him, back in her human form. He didn't even seem startled, something that both annoyed and impressed her.

"Who the hell are you, girly?" he asked her, his tone gruff and rude.

Rose didn't answer, however. "I've heard you have quite the penchant for hurting children."

His frown deepened. "The brat needs some discipline. The fact that he obviously bitched to his bloody girlfriend shows exactly why."

Rose felt angry but didn't let it show. "I hate people who hurt children. I hate them more than anything." Nott Senior just grinned nastily at her. "At first I thought that a scare would suffice, but ridding the world of you entirely seems to be the best course of action right now."

"And what do you th–"

Before he could even complete his sentence, a swarm of crows descended upon him, ripping into him with their beaks. His screams echoed through the night, and she wasn't sure if Theodore heard or didn't. It wasn't important anyway. What was important was that, once his screams had subsided and died down completely, the world was now a better place.

Just a tiny bit.


	5. The Journey

So busy, all these people. Rushing out of the trains, some with their briefcases in their hands, others with their children in tow, but, all of them had one thing in common: they looked so incredibly busy. From train to train, from platform to platform, to and fro.

Rose watched them, perched on a steel beam high up in King's Cross station. It was a sight to behold and she felt so very disconnected from them and their lives. She knew that this was what being a normal person meant; living in this ever-steady, unchanging rhythm, repeating the same processes day after day. To be fair, she, too, had had an ever-steady rhythm in her life: wake up, slave away, go to sleep. Sometimes, to keep her on her toes, the Dursleys would add a proper beating in there. They probably didn't want her to get used to the monotony.

She wondered what her life would have been like if she had been one of _them_ – the mass of people below. Would she work an average job? Would she be a housewife? She'd never know. It probably was better that way too, lest she'd begin to desire the impossible and go mad because of it.

She cawed, more out of boredom than anything else. A teenage girl, probably around her age, looked up, catching sight of her. This girl, looking up, didn't know that she wasn't just watching an average crow. She didn't know that she was looking at a thirteen-year-old girl with the soul of a genuine goddess in disguise. It was an odd thought she had, but she wondered what the girl would do if she were to change into her original, human form right here and right now. Would the girl scream? Would she freeze? Would she point at her? Would she shake her head or pinch herself to see if she didn't just go completely nutters all of a sudden?

Rose was inclined to try it, to sate her curiosity, but then, finally, what she had actually been here for appeared to be beginning.

A flare of magic pulsed through the station like a shockwave, unnoticed by the magicless. Rose took off and flew towards the epicentre of that shockwave. Her handsome believer, Theodore, had forgotten to tell her, but it didn't matter. She found it easily enough, the barrier between platforms nine and ten. She could see the warping portal leading to another place, hidden from prying eyes. If these people knew just what was right there in front of them, behind them, next to them; if they only knew that there was a fantastical world right under their noses, what would they do? She had a feeling that she might find out one day.

But not now. Now, she flew towards the portal, her avian heart beating even faster in excitement and, suddenly, she was through. She flew up again, then landed on a signpost.

At first glance, it looked like another station, another platform. It was still emp –

A sudden _bang_ startled her and she looked to a particular spot where a couple of magic-folk had appeared out of thin air with their daughter. The bang must have come from their teleportation, though Rose wondered why it had to be so loud. _She_ didn't make any noise when teleporting, after all.

She watched the parents lead their daughter towards the train and find her a place to sit and to stow away the luggage. More _bangs_ followed and the portal appeared to be used now as well since many parents led their children through there. More and more children were being brought here by their parents and, once she got finally bored of people-watching, she took the time to just look around, her attention now on the scarlet train – the _Hogwarts Express_ , as it said on its side.

The train was oozing magic as well. She could see and feel it, similar to the portal and the entrance to her realm. The ward she had felt around Theodore's home, while strong, was a lot more subdued. Then again, magic needed to create wards didn't compare to magic needed to create portals.

On the tracks, close to what appeared to be the exit, was another portal. It was larger and even more powerful. Understandable, considering that a whole train had to pass through.

"...really sure you're alright, Theo?"

"Yes, aunt Rhea. You worry too much."

She cocked her head at the voices and sought them out in the mass of people. It took her a few moments, then she found him, her believer. He still looked ruggedly handsome and even as if he had been lightened of a huge burden. She was glad. She cawed once and it had the desired effect. He stiffened, but his tensed up muscles relaxed immediately again. He didn't look for her. She had made her presence known and he had understood.

Rose was glad he still had family and she hoped that this aunt of his was from his mother's side. His father had been a waste of oxygen and she still felt disgusted to have had breathed from the same air he had. She could only imagine what the rest of Theodore's father's side would look like.

More time passed and soon the last of the students had arrived. Only parents remained on the platform, some grinning, some crying, some oddly impassive. The children appeared to be excited, however. That was good. That meant they were looking forward to that school and to learning magic. It made her even more curious.

The train whistled and began to slowly move, prompting her to flight. She circled lazily in the air, still having to wait a bit for it to pick up speed. Before too long, she followed the Hogwarts Express and passed through the portal, arriving outside of the city, left and right from her nothing but green. The landscape looked luscious and inviting and untouched from human engineering. The original Morrigan would have certainly approved. She had complained a lot when talking about this particular issue and how industrialization had driven humans even further away from her and her fellow deities. Sacred sites had gotten forgotten and some even destroyed. Laws protecting them now simply were too little too late.

The flight was a calm and relaxing affair. All she could see was the train moving rapidly on the tracks like a scarlet serpent, left and right to it the beautiful greens.

After a while, she had to admit that she lost track of time and zoned out a bit. It was then, that a surprised caw escaped her. The train had come to a halt and she had almost missed it and flown past it. Hooded figures were flying towards the Hogwarts Express and she could immediately tell that something was off about them. Even through her feathers did she feel the layer of frost surrounding these creatures. She flew closer towards the Express, her curiosity getting the better of her. She doubted that this was a common occurrence.

The closer she got, the clearer she saw that something was happening inside of the train. A few of these things had entered it and the surrounding air felt cold and bleak. She slowly flew past a few windows, the layers of frost making it difficult to see, but what she could make out was worrisome: most of the students were slumped into their seats, curled up, shivering and a few even crying.

She kept looking and was startled that she had indeed found Theodore's compartment. He was sitting with other students, shivering violently, pale and curled up. He looked like he was about to throw up.

He didn't pray for her, though she doubted that he was in any state to do so. Whatever these creatures were, they appeared to be powerful and _dark._

She hovered next to the window, opened her beak wide and cawed powerfully. A murder of crows of huge proportions answered, the caws echoing across the landscape. The flaps of wings and their calls drowned out everything else. Their approaching black bodies cast a large shadow and some flew through the train's open doors, some crashed into the windows, breaking them. She followed her crows inside and landed on the back of Theodore's seat. She watched them chase the creatures out of this compartment, she watched them fly through the wagon towards the back and the front. She could see from the broken window how the creatures escaped in masses and took their darkness with them.

A few moments passed while her crows left. Slowly, normalcy returned, then she looked at the students. Some were bleeding from the broken glass. She winced inwardly, feeling bad because of her own rash actions and hoped that she hadn't seriously hurt anybody, but, as far as she could see, the wounds were superficial.

A blonde girl, her hair sticking to her bloodied skin, was staring at her. She wore a four-armed cross with the ends woven into a square in the centre. She knew it was Brigid's Cross. Rose remembered the Morrigan mentioning the other Goddess here and there. They hadn't exactly seen eye to eye, from what she had gathered.

The girl opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it again, her eyes squinting even more. To say she looked very confused and suspicious would be an understatement.

"Bloody hell just happened?" one of the boys asked. He had dark skin and short shaven hair. "And what's up with that bird, Theo?"

"I-I – what?"

Rose, taking that as her cue to leave, flew out of the window, opting to circle above the Hogwarts express until it was ready to continue its journey.

* * *

They arrived at a small village's station. A sign said that this settlement was called _Hogsmeade_ and Rose had to wonder what the magic folk's fascination with hogs was about.

She landed on top of the train, watching the students step out and walk towards carriages pulled by skeletal, winged horses. _Thestrals_ , she remembered. Creatures, which could freely move between this and the Otherworld. They appeared to be agitated and Rose had a feeling it was because of her presence.

She then caught sight of the group of students she had seen with Theo. Only now did she realize that their uniforms and ties had green and silver highlights. Curious, she looked around and saw that some other students had differently coloured highlights on their uniforms. She wondered why that was. She'd have to ask Theodore about it when she could.

Then, a conversation between a few students caught her attention.

"...said that the dementors came to look for Black."

"Who?"

"Bloody hell, mate, do you never read the newspaper?"

"Just answer the question, man."

"My parents said that he betrayed the Potters, killed a bunch of muggles and got put into Azkaban for it – without a trial! And he's the first who's ever broken out of Azkaban. My dad said that he apparently kept saying something like 'he's in Hogwarts'. No one knows what he was talking about, but in the ministry, they are scared that he's trying to get into Hogwarts."

" _Damn_."

 _Curious._ Perched on a tree, she had quite a bit to mull over. Dementors – she assumed those were the creatures in the train and they were there to look for this _Black._ He, supposedly, was the one who betrayed her parents. She had only one person in mind who looked like a traitor and the basin in her realm had shown it to her. Small and chubby, a bit like a rat. That must be this _Black_ they were talking about. She needed to find out more about him. Theodore would have to do some research for her.

Speaking of Theodore – she had lost sight of him.

She quickly took off again, following the pathway the thestrals were using. Soon, she reached a castle and there were already empty carriages standing around. He must have already gone inside.

Deciding that she might as well use the time to rest, she found herself a place high up in a tree, tucked her head under a wing and fell asleep.

* * *

Only a couple of days later did she get the opportunity to see Theodore again. He walked outside with his friends and with students with blue ties. They all headed into a greenhouse. She took the opportunity to watch this class since she hadn't been to one yet. So far, she had taken the time to get to know the village and the forest better. The forest was inhabited by fantastical beasts, something she had found quite fascinating. She was toying with the decision to reveal herself to the centaurs soon. They might be able to tell her interesting things. She had also answered another couple of prayers, though both were from non-magical girls. Still, better than nothing.

She was looking down from her position on top of the greenhouse and felt immensely disappointed. The students were dealing with ugly looking plants, taking them from one pot and planting them into another. It looked very mundane and, aside from the plant's looks, not exactly magical. Theo seemed to be struggling quite a bit, while the blonde girl, whom she assumed to be a believer of Brigid's, appeared to be quite adept at it. Another blonde, a boy with slick hair wearing a green and silver tie, didn't even bother trying. She wondered how she would have taken to this class. She knew she had hated tending to Petunia's garden with a passion.

Sometime later, she had apparently fallen asleep because she was startled out of her nap by the chatter of students exiting the greenhouse. Her mind was still catching up with her, but she quickly remembered something she had wanted to demand of her believer.

She cawed loudly, once, twice, thrice. He looked up, saw her on top of the greenhouse and said something to his friends. The boys shrugged, as did the girls, though the one blonde girl, once again, looked at her with clear suspicion. Rose cawed again and the girl looked away, following her friends out of the greenhouse.

Once his friends were far enough away, she saw her believer exit the greenhouse as well, the teacher still busy cleaning up after the class. Rose took off, flying lazily towards the edge of the forest, perching on a tree and waiting for Theodore. It didn't take long for him to catch up to her and when he did, she flew down and shapeshifted back into her human form.

"Mmmmmmh!" She stretched thoroughly, enjoying the pops running down her back. "Hello, Theodore," she said, looking him up and down with a hand resting on her cocked hip. "You clean up well."

"M-my Goddess," he said and knelt. It still made her so very uncomfortable.

She didn't have time to think about that though. "I have a task for you," she said, her tone now serious and her brows furrowed. "I want you to find out all you can about this _Black_ I have heard about."


End file.
